


Love is such a weird thing (and so are you)

by xiujaemin



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-10-18 21:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10625673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiujaemin/pseuds/xiujaemin
Summary: Rich kids weren’t supposed to be Baekhyun’s thing, and Chanyeol was always supposed to get whatever he wants. But rules are made to be broken, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for [yeolliepopday](http://yeolliepopday.livejournal.com/17666.html)  
> thanks to Lightning for more than half of the jokes written here~

Knowing Baekhyun, Chanyeol knows that the guy hates Friday nights the most, because Friday nights are “nights when rich kids who don’t have anything better to do with their lives” start flocking in bars, looking for good times (and good fucks).

It also happens to be the start of the weekend, and even though Baekhyun denies it, Chanyeol knows that the older guy usually enjoys weekends from the occasional slips of the tongue the former usually has, giving him clues that it was actually something the the man used to always look forward to back when he was still in high school, before things started going wrong and his mom couldn’t afford to send him to school anymore, because the atmosphere seems to change, shifting from the busyness of the weekdays into comfort and calm cramped in two days.

Through extensive efforts of asking, Chanyeol also found out that he especially liked Sundays, because he could pretty well bury his head in the clouds and imagine worlds far beyond reality, traveling to countries that are oceans and continents away.  
_  
But that is until over six feet of dumb elf ears and bright, creepy smiles start greeting him, asking for a song (and a date)_ , Baekhyun would always counter by telling Chanyeol indirectly, addressing himself in the third person. Chanyeol doesn’t even know why Baekhyun hates him that much, when all he did was ask.

Baekhyun hasn’t told Chanyeol yet, but Friday nights are nights when he wishes he didn’t turn over his weeknight barista duties to his co-worker, Minseok instead.

***

 

Chanyeol lazily rubs the sleep from his eyes, hitting his nose with a beer bottle in the process. He stares at it, confused as to how it got there, his mind barely starting to recall the previous night’s incidents mixed with blaring lights and too much heat. He gets up from his spot on the floor (like seriously, why is he on the floor? What are those stupid maids—oh wait he’s not at home. Right, he’s in his shared apartment with Kyungsoo) and goes to the bathroom first, splashing his face with cold water to get back to his senses. The fluid’s chill seeps through his pores and settles down on his bones, and he wipes his face dry with a towel conveniently left by the sink.

His phone rings, and he picks it up from the back pocket of his jeans. An unfamiliar set of numbers glare at him from the phone’s screen, and he squints at it, trying to remember what the hell happened this time.

He purposefully ends the call and proceeds to open an app where he keeps note of the places he’s supposed to go to. He ticks off the topmost entry, a bar drowning in neon lights and couples who can’t get enough of each other being the highlight of it all. He briefly remembers the suffocating feeling of smoke clinging and wrapping around his lungs, of bodies grinding against him and the sweaty, gyrating bodies that left him dizzy. He quickly shoves the memory away, giving the next entry a cursory look.

Classy, high-end bars never struck him as fascinating, but he guesses he’d at least try (because seriously, how bad could it be?).

He checks his reflection in the mirror and is surprised to see a soot-covered face staring back at him. He grabs the towel carelessly thrown to the side, and he almost face-palms because how the hell could he not have noticed that the towel wasn’t actually colored black, but was stained with a powder of dirt?

A scream of “Do Kyungsooooooo!” echoes through the walls of the apartment, and Kyungsoo smirks from where he is sitting on the couch, nose buried in a book. “Serves you right.” He laughs to himself, flipping the page nonchalantly as if he doesn’t hear footsteps getting louder by the second.  


***

 

 

Chanyeol’s laugh is boisterous and spontaneous, and it earns him annoyed looks from the people he comes across with, every single one of them eyeing him with utmost distaste and unmasked disapproval. He almost bumps into a middle-aged woman, but he is able to swerve away from her line of vision before she could even react.

He hobbles forward, still laughing from something he doesn’t quite remember and it’s probably something no one he passes by knows of. The woman shakes her head, muttering something about kids nowadays and how back in her time, things had been very, very different. She crosses the street, precariously balancing bags of groceries in her hands, and Chanyeol would’ve helped her, but he wasn’t that kind of person anyway.

He makes a sharp turn to the right and is greeted by a pair of hands gripping his shoulders, steadying him. “Are you alright, sir?” A look of concern passes over the person’s face, but it leaves as soon as Chanyeol’s lips part, a laugh escaping his mouth instead of words tumbling out to assure the guy that yes, he’s still pretty much alright and that he’s just pretending to be wasted so that the girl following him that he barely remembers from yesterday’s exploits would leave him alone without having to tell her off right in her face, but just that he couldn’t say that because it would reveal his intentions, and frankly, where would the thrill in that be left?

“Would you need me to help you…?” He waves away the guy’s offer and makes his way through the mahogany-varnished, oak double doors of the bar on his own, expression closed out and calculating, his sudden calm and sobriety jarringly contrasting with his previous “drunken” state. But no one in the building knows of his previous task, and he goes on, eyes flitting back and forth between men in suits and women in colorful gowns, looking for someone that could pique his interest.

Every day, his life is like this: whenever he’s not busy with going to school and studying (or at least, pretending to), he goes bar-hopping to ease the boredom and stress of being in college.

Again, he has never liked high-end bars, but there’s just a certain pull from the doors inviting him in that he couldn’t stop himself from walking in. If fate is playing a dirty trick on him, then he might as well bet on his chances.

Some type of old, pop music plays in the background, and he finds himself swaying his head to the beat even though he was never a fan of that genre. Opting rock and roll and fast-paced raps filled with all the swear words in the dictionary, he isn’t sure why such a type of unfamiliar force is creeping its way up to his body and wrenching at his heart strings, willing him to listen to every word, every syllable, every breath.

His eyes search the room for the source of that voice, and he feels the air is knocked out from him when he spots a black-haired boy around his age in a black suit, the slender fingers of his right hand wrapped around the body of the microphone as if it was the love of his life. His other hand moves freely in front of him, making gestures with every curve and bend his voice makes, fingers snapping along to the beat of the song whenever there is a pause in his lines.

Chanyeol feels entranced by that melodic voice, the rhythmic strums of the guitar fading against the backdrop and the steady plucking of the bass’s thick strings silhouetting the enchantment of the siren’s song. As a lone fisherman’s boat would crash against the shores of the island of mermaids waiting to devour him as they lure him in with their sad melodies and songs that reveal his innermost thoughts and hidden desires, Chanyeol feels himself being pulled along to the heart of an enchantress’s isle, along with promises of eternal happiness and delight.

Chanyeol snaps out of his daze and his mouth is set in a thin line of determination, having had found a cause. He is now a man with a mission, and not just some guy with a resolution of looking through every bar available in Seoul’s capital district. He weaves through the crowd, stopping to sit in front of a counter manned by two bartenders who are busily mixing drinks, his goal evident in mind.

The bartender nearest him hands a drink over the counter to the girl sitting beside him, clad in a gaudy cocktail dress that uncannily reminds him of a peacock in distress, and the man wipes his own hands on a cloth, a well-rehearsed smile on his face and a line memorized by heart on his lips. “What drink would you like for this evening, sir?”

Chanyeol couldn’t help but laugh at the formality in his neighbor’s tone. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

The bartender pouts, and it makes him look even younger than he actually is. “I am offended. You clearly weren’t listening to Kyungsoo the first time he introduced us, weren’t you?”

“I have no excuses.”Chanyeol raises up both hands in mock surrender. “I could say that it’s been two years since that happened and I couldn’t remember anything from what Kyungsoo said, but hey, at least I’m honest.”

Luhan scoffs, but there is no malice in his expression. The reflection of the lights dance around his eyes, and Chanyeol is reminded of a fifteen-year old girl, eyes sparkling intently as her idol hands her a signed copy of their album. He waves the thought away, not wanting to be reminded of his older sister’s fan girl phase, her rants of _“It’s not just a phase mom; it’s a lifestyle!”_ still clear in his mind. “I thought you didn’t like places like these?”

“No, I didn’t say anything like that. Who even gave you that idea?” Chanyeol denies, the lie easily slipping off his tongue.

“You know, I’m not quite sure what gave it away, but it’s probably that monologue you gave about classy bars being stuffy and full of rich pricks.” _Like you_ , Luhan almost adds but doesn’t, because maybe their level of friendship isn’t ready for that yet.

Chanyeol raises his eyebrows innocently. “I did?”

Luhan rolls his eyes at the younger man. “No, the other rich prick did.” The smile slips back on his face as he greets a newly-seated customer, the gentle look contrasting with the one he gives Chanyeol.

“Hey hyung, I need your help with something.” Chanyeol speaks up as Luhan pours an assortment of different-colored drinks in the metal cup that he uses for mixing drinks.

“Wow, that’s probably the first time you called me hyung. And as far as I can remember, that’s also the first time you’ve ever referred to me with the use of honorifics,” Luhan answers, eyes trained on the cup. “You need a favor, don’t you? Then speak, oh high and mighty one. How may this humble servant be of service to you?” He is still focused on his work, but the ends of his lips quirk up to form a grin.

Chanyeol props his elbow on the counter, leaning closer and lowering his voice so that only Luhan could hear what he is saying. “I need to speak to your manager.”

Luhan pours the mixture into a martini glass, topping it off with an olive before handing it over to the young lady. She winks at him suggestively, yet Luhan only smiles politely in return, bowing his head slightly as she gets up to leave with the drink in hand.

His turning down of admirers has clearly seen better days, but Chanyeol knows better not to pry in his business, because then Luhan would probably never shut up about his boyfriend (Chanyeol has already made the mistake of asking him one time when he passed by in front of Luhan’s apartment, seeing a girl flirting with him. Luhan then launched into a story about loyalty and infidelity and how great his boyfriend was, but by now Chanyeol has already learned his lesson).

“Well, you’re one lucky customer, because the owner himself is here right now.” Chanyeol makes a mental note to reward Luhan with a leprechaun swimming in a pot full of gold and a rainbow-shitting unicorn to top it all off, because he just saved Chanyeol from having to deal with inexperienced managers (and his captivated heart, too)

***

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” Chanyeol overhears the singer (whose name, he immediately finds out as Byun Baekhyun) say, expression disclosed and unbelieving. “Like, who the hell is dumb enough to pay half a million won just so he can have the bar to himself?” He pries open one eye, observing the two who are only a good few meters away from him.

Kim Junmyeon, the owner of the high-end bar that the singer works in every night shrugs. “Apparently, he is.” He quirks his lips to point in the general direction of Chanyeol.

Chanyeol looks away, pretending as if he wasn’t even listening as Baekhyun takes in his over six feet of greatness, from the tips of his black suede shoes well-polished and looking brand new, to the ends of his styled hair.

Even when he’s not looking, he knows that Baekhyun is probably thinking that his tailor-made suit definitely looks like it has been sewn and crafted by a skilled, high-class fashion designer, yet what he doesn’t know was that the guy thought his velvety red hair seems to ruin the respectable, business-tycoon look. It wouldn’t even be a surprise to him if Baekhyun already knows that he’s rich, for every nerve and fiber of his being screams “chaebol”. From the century-old wine he drinks from his translucent goblet, to the way he holds his posture.

Chanyeol risks looking back and their eyes meet. He sees Baekhyun side-eyeing him, clearly not good in hiding his distaste for rich people. He could see it, the assessment of to which family he belongs: was he an heir to a business empire, a stock exchange benefactor, the son of a two doctors who never seem to have time to take a rest from working, or the child of one of the employees with higher positions, enough to convince a CEO? Or is he nouveau riche?

He knows he could sometimes even be misjudged as the member of the mafia or the son of a drug lord who could practically buy out all of their souls after slapping some sense into them with a wad of cash, but clearly, he isn’t that type of person.

But Baekhyun doesn’t look away, only holding his gaze at level and continuing to talk to the manager. “And what does he want? Is he here to trash the place or something?” Baekhyun asks, only half guilty that he is partly wishing for the guy to actually do that because he wants to see Junmyeon’s face when he gets 100% done with his life and starts flipping tables just for kicks. “Because I’ve seen quite a few dramas wherein things like this happen, and believe me, it never ends with a good deal and happy greetings of ‘It was nice working with you, have a nice day’.”

Junmyeon shrugs, calm exterior making Baekhyun want to punch the daylights out of him (but if they haven’t been friends for quite some time and didn’t have a long history of events behind them, he probably would’ve done it anyway). Maybe it comes with the assurance that he wouldn’t really need to work a single day in his life and live off from his parent’s fortune, yet he’d still wake up the next day swimming in pools of cash. “Why don’t you find out for yourself? You’re the reason why he’s here, anyway.”

***

_“What? Why?” Chanyeol is clearly baffled, because he always gets what he wants. What more for a single song that he has paid more than enough for?_  
__  
But Byun Baekhyun, as Chanyeol learns, wouldn’t take any shit and says what’s on his mind. “Because I don’t want to.”  
__  
“C’mon. This isn’t what I paid for!” Chanyeol protests.  
__  
The shorter guy crosses his arms over his chest and raises a perfect eyebrow, daring anyone to cross his path right now and risk being flung away to the nearest dumpster. “Then go take back your money. Or ask my boss to fire me from this job, for all I care.”  
__  
“You know I can’t do that!”  
_  
But Baekhyun simply dares to push further beyond his bounds. “You can. Nothing’s stopping you. Unless… You like me.”_

Chanyeol almost rips his face off when he rubs his hands on it as he remembers stepping out of a bar sober and disheartened.

“I, for one, obviously do not like him! Why would I even?” Chanyeol rants, fuming with anger that you can even cook breakfast on top of his head from the steams of frustration he’s emitting. “He’s so full of himself when he clearly doesn’t even have anything to be proud of!”

None of the three people seated on the table with him answers. Chanyeol has already since ruled out Luhan because he’s clearly too absorbed in malicious thoughts to function whenever his boyfriend Minseok is around, so he looks at the other two, hoping to find solutions from them.

Minseok munches thoughtfully on his hamburger, head tilted to the side while thinking of ways to help Chanyeol out. He isn’t the group’s man for ideas, so the younger gives him time to think and digs in on his sundae first.

Chanyeol could hear the sound of cricket noises getting louder and louder by the minute, and he regrets ever even inviting the three of them and treating them to lunch just to talk about how pathetic his day got. Kyungsoo doesn’t even blink from poking the meatballs on the spaghetti he ordered, checking their sizes and making mental notes for a new recipe he’s working on.

“Guys, please. Aren’t you all my friends? Does nobody even care for my well-being anymore?” he pouts, pulling out his secret weapon of aegyo-loaded puppy dog eyes.

“I’m still thinking,” Minseok says, the same time Kyungsoo fakes a cough before biting away half of the meatball. “No.”

Chanyeol turns to look at his best friend and flatmate with a hurt expression. “Huh? But why?”

“Because NO.” Kyungsoo looks at him point blank, eyes deadly serious.

“Seriously Soo? Seriously? You’re doing this to me right now, when I am in such a big crisis?”

Kyungsoo eats the remaining half of the meatball, tone still deadpanned and face expressionless. “Bitch, did I stutter.”

Chanyeol almost claws his eyes out in frustration. “Soo, you’re not helping. C’mon guys, notice me! I’m in the middle of such a dire situation here!” he waves his hands in front of Luhan’s face, yet the other guy seem too pre-occupied with eating, while Minseok just shakes his head, no ideas coming out. “Soo, stop being a bitch and help me out, you’re my best friend!”

When Kyungsoo still deliberately finds undeclared excuses to ignore him, Chanyeol sighs deeply, knowing that he’ll have to use THAT technique. “Itachi. Itachi, itachi, itachi.” Kyungsoo bites his inner cheek to stop himself from talking back and shouting “This isn’t one of those anime shows you watch, and I’m most definitely not Itachi. My name is Do Kyungsoo, what kind of idiot are you and from what era were you even born.”

“Nii-san. Nii-san, nii-san, nii-san, nii-san, nii-san.” Kyungsoo squints his eyes at Chanyeol. _Ew gross you’re older than me. And stop going Japanese all over me, you make me want to puke. Your pronunciation isn’t even correct! It should be pronounced as Ni-i san, not knee-san oh dear god please guide this poor soul and help him achieve eternal nirvana._

“Itachi itachi itachi nii-san nii-san nii-san.”Kyungsoo remains staring, fighting the great urge to flinch. _Good lord, I am very thankful that you have blessed with patience far greater than Park Chanyeol’s I.Q._

“Weasel. Weasel weasel weasel weasel.” Kyungsoo’s eye twitches. The couple remains oblivious, concentrating on the food they’re eating instead and choosing to steer clear between an oncoming war between the other two. Or maybe they’re just really getting good at ignoring the six feet of dumb that Chanyeol is. Chanyeol smiles, knowing that he’s struck a nerve. He takes a deep breath, ready for the final blow. “Weaaaaseeeeel.”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE WHAT?!?!?!?!” All of the veins seem to pop out from Kyungsoo’s neck as his voice reaches octaves higher, and Chanyeol suppresses the laugh bubbling in his throat, willing it to stay down and simmer until it’s the right time. Kyungsoo’s sudden outburst seems to catch the couple’s attention, and they stop with what they were doing, eyes flitting over the two best friends like they’re watching a tennis match.

“Hi.” He answers, and Kyungsoo almost slaps him out of consciousness and into the next galaxy.

“Park Chanyeol, have you been watching fan made animations from that stupid gaming site for kids again. Because I swear the next time you do and try out the dialogues on me, I will cut off your balls.”

“Finally, I have your attention!” Chanyeol cheers, and Kyungsoo just rolls his eyes at his best friend. As much as he wants to, he still couldn’t kill the older guy. Probably because he knows that dumb people in horror movies who try to poke fun at everything tend to die first. It would be too cliché.

“Spare me the hobo sob story Park Chanyeol, what do you want.” His face returns to being deadpan, like he’s tired of the whole world’s shit. Or maybe because he’s tired of even agreeing to become friends with Chanyeol in the first place.

“I just need to find a way to—“

“Then go fuck him. Or go fuck yourself.”

“That’s not very nice. And I wasn’t even done talking yet.” Chanyeol frowns, lines creasing the gap between his eyebrows.

“Go wash your mouth when you get home, okay?” Luhan slides a box containing a bar of pink, sweet-smelling soap across the table. _Why’d he even bring that here,_ Minseok thinks. “Lather well. That’s cheaper than getting your soul purified.”

Minseok fidgets with the unfinished burger still on his hands and sighs at the budding war blossoming between Kyungsoo and his boyfriend. He sighs deeply. “When will they settle their issues?”

***

Chanyeol rests his head on top of his arms folded together on the surface of the bar countertop. “Why won’t you sing for me?” He has forgone all the angry bravado he has vented out on his friends the other day, going back to the disappointed customer he was the other day.

Baekhyun massages his temples. He’s already tired of his regular schedule, why throw in a lumbering mess of a rich kid with money that he can’t wait to get rid of? He finishes off a cup of red wine in one gulp as if it’s water. “I told you yesterday already: because I don’t want to.”

“Are you sure? Because it looks to me like you’re not telling me something.” Luhan looks up from the drink he’s mixing, suddenly distracted by the direction the conversation of the two are going. The customer still waiting for his drink clears his throat, seeing that the bartender is preoccupied with something else other than his work (probably for gossiping material), and Luhan profusely apologizes, trying to tune out his mind from the conversation of the two yet trying to keep an eye on them so that they won’t try getting at each other’s throats.

“Okay, you got me,” Baekhyun raises his hands in mock surrender, Chanyeol falling easily for the trap and ears perking up at Baekhyun’s words, preparing to hear some petulant apology or an indirect confession of love and devotion. But Byun Baekhyun never fails to crush down his expectations.

“Actually, I have three reasons: Number one, I don’t like rich kids,” he raises his hand and ticks off every point with a finger for emphasis.“Number two, I don’t like singing for people who think that they can get away with anything and everything that they do just because they’re rich. And number three; I AM NOT YOUR BITCH. Now go, scurry along and find yourself someone else to bother.”

Chanyeol frowns. “But I like bothering you.”

“The problem though, is that the feeling’s not mutual. I look forward to your retirement from going here. Enjoy your night kid.” Baekhyun turns on his heels to enter the door labeled “Personnel Only” quite a few inches from the cupboard filled with differently colored liquids in bottles of varying assortments, an underlying tone of “Just fuck off” decoded from his sardonically kind words hanging in the air.

Luhan wolf-whistles from his place as he witnessed the whole scene of a diva walk out from the guy who always gets things going the way they want them to, jaw looking misaligned from trying to stop himself from laughing from the look on Chanyeol’s face. “My friend, I’m afraid that you’ve finally found your match.”

***

“You know what, you suck.” Baekhyun decides after seeing Chanyeol lumbering towards him once again while he’s doing his after-show ritual of drinking red wine from behind the counter. It doesn’t have any health benefits or anything; it just calms down his nerves. And it’s for free, anyways.

“The fact that I won in a race against tens of millions of other sperms in order to reach my mother’s egg cell proves that you’re wrong.” He once again settles down on the seat he’s already accustomed to, hands automatically going on top of the counter and folding them to rest his head there as he looks up at Baekhyun with unwavering lengths of confidence.

“You know, that just sounds really wrong.” Baekhyun shakes his head. “Did you hit your head when you were born or something?”

Chanyeol smiles, unnaturally white teeth sparkling under the lights. “I don’t think so, but I’m pretty sure I’ve been told multiple times that I AM quite something.”

The shorter of the two squints his eyes at the other, calmly judging, poring through every bit and fiber of Chanyeol’s being and willing his body cells to go shrivel up and die. “Wow, I didn’t think it was this bad,” he scrunches up his nose in distaste. “But very well. You see if ‘quite something’ translates to ‘being such a big and egotistical dick, then yes, I agree with you.”

Chanyeol being—well, Chanyeol-ish—decides to poke fun at Baekhyun and turn his own words against him. “Ooh, you’re that sure already? But you haven’t seen it yet.” He laughs, and his face contorts into an expression Baekhyun doesn’t quite recognize if it was happiness or pain.

Baekhyun’s face turns into a shade of beet red as the realization of Chanyeol’s words sink into his brain, and he spits out his words in abhorrence for Chanyeol’s existence. “YOU. ARE. IMPOSSIBLE!” Chanyeol is taken aback because he swears he could feel the infinitesimal power of the caps lock key from the revulsion in Baekhyun’s voice, coming to an understanding, for the very first time, that he might have taken the wrong approach in dealing with the petite, raven-haired boy with the amazing voice and an even greater attitude problem.

***

And so, it just so happens that it has become a routine for Chanyeol to drop by the bar every night to listen to Baekhyun sing (and also to bother Luhan, much to the older one’s annoyance), determined to make Baekhyun at least like him enough to befriend him even if he himself thinks he doesn’t seem to have a chance (and maybe get to hear a song especially just for him).

“You’re here again. Why am I even surprised,” Baekhyun wrinkles his nose when Chanyeol sits down in his usual spot. It’s a Friday, and Baekhyun knows specifically well that Chanyeol hangs around in the bar for a longer time on Fridays, since he doesn’t have anything better to do with his life on the weekends (it’s just something that’s impossible not to notice, it’s not like Baekhyun’s been paying keen attention to the days that Chanyeol drops by, that’s unheard of!) and Baekhyun takes the day off on weekends.

But the exasperation in Baekhyun’s voice is now gone, replaced by some sort of amusement. Chanyeol notices this, and mentally pats himself in the back, believing that it’s a big sign of improvement(well, either that or Baekhyun was too annoyed at Chanyeol to even bother showing his annoyance anymore. Chanyeol likes to think that it really is the first one).

Luhan also seems to notice this, because he gives Chanyeol an approving look before returning his attention to the cup he’s wiping. Chanyeol is tempted to jump and do a big ‘whoop’ like guys in old movies do, but is able to resist it.

“So I’m guessing you’re going to ask me to sing for you again? Because that’s never going to happen, you know.” Baekhyun downs the contents of the cup in one gulp as he usually does and wipes a sleeve over his mouth.

“No, actually I’m going to ask you for a date.” Baekhyun is thankful that he’s already finished drinking, because if he wasn’t, he probably spit out the drink on someone. Probably Chanyeol. But preferably Luhan, since the bartender would come to no end when it comes to teasing him about Chanyeol’s little crush on him.

“Uh, what.” Baekhyun dumbly answers,having no idea what to say. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s been asked out on a date—he’s handsome and charming enough to have been in a few relationships, let alone a handful of dates—but it’s the first time he’s being asked out by someone like Park Chanyeol: chaebol kid extraordinaire.

“I asked you if you’d want to go out on a date with me.” Chanyeol says, straight-faced and unblinking. Baekhyun admires Chanyeol’s confidence, but he also knows he should be bothered because the younger man wasn’t flailing or being boastful or acting just like his weird, normal self, but he isn’t. Really, he’s just nervous. Because how would he handle a situation like this?

The best way, he knows, is to politely decline the offer. But he’s also curious as to how the date would go, that he couldn’t decide what to say. So he stands there, just gaping at Chanyeol, and Chanyeol stares back, unwilling to back down from his resolve, until he is snapped out of his daze by Luhan clearing his throat and mumbling things like “If you’re going to flirt, better not just stare at each other like statues. This is not Greece, for Pete’s sake, you’re not Pygmalion and Galatea!” and “This is a public place, stop eye-fucking each other.”

“But you’re too creepy.” Baekhyun says, instead of the intended “Sorry, I can’t”. He flushes red at his statement, but Chanyeol doesn’t look too perturbed. “Really?” He doesn’t sound crestfallen as Baekhyun would’ve expected, just plainly curious. For a moment, Baekhyun seems to notice something flit across Chanyeol’s eyes, but it disappears as quickly as he had seen it there, so he just ignores it, thinking that maybe he’s just imagining things.

“Really.” Baekhyun decides to back up what he just said, because he has no idea how to apologize or say something comforting to Chanyeol without giving away everything.

***

Chanyeol invites them once more to a newly-opened fast food chain in the area, hoping that this time they’ll be able to give him help in his mid-life crisis. “How can I show him my affection without looking like a creeper?”

Luhan laughs a tad bit too loudly, his chin looking disjointed, and people start staring in their direction, willing him to shut up through sheer force and good will. Luhan regains his composure after a while of looking like a crazed idiot, far from the bartender with the best visuals that most regular customers from his workplace know him as. “That’s kinda impossible, given that you ARE a creeper.”

Kyungsoo dips a French fry on tomato ketchup and chews on it diligently. “Hearts. Bitches love hearts.”

Chanyeol’s eyes widen, thought registering in his mind that finally, FINALLY, Kyungsoo had the audacity to give advice to his friend who’s in clear need of help without needing to be pushed to the boundaries of his sanity. “Really?”

Kyungsoo nods. “Yeah, of course. Trust me, I’m the expert on this.”

Luhan laughs again, although not as loudly this time, but he still doesn’t cover up his mouth. “Expert on dating fetuses, that is.” Chanyeol almost starts to ask whose fetus they’re talking about and what Kyungsoo has done to even start dating a fetus, but doesn’t anyway when he remembers that it’s probably a joke Luhan made out of the fact that Kyungsoo is dating a high school student. It wasn’t as bad as Luhan made it sound, though. Jongin _was_ already about to graduate, and is also only a year younger than Kyungsoo, too.

Kyungsoo threatens to chuck a fry in Luhan’s direction, but decides better against wasting food. So he opts for biting it angrily instead.“Did anyone ask for your opinion? Did anyone ask for your existence. Did anyone ask you to breathe?” Chanyeol is sometimes worried that a war will break about because of the two, but so far, it hasn’t happened. Well at least, not yet. “And last time I checked, you were manhandling a guy looking like a five year old.”

Luhan touches a hand to his chest, feigning a look of hurt and betrayal at Kyungsoo’s words. “I am not a pedophile. Minseok’s already twenty four, you dumb bitch. Try doing math for once.”

Chanyeol ignores the bickering of the two and reverts back to his own dilemma instead, choosing not to directly stamp their faces with realizations like, _“Hello, I’m the one in the middle of a crisis here, not you,”_ or _“The spotlight’s on me today, stop hogging it”_. “Ooh, I see. Cool. So where’s the nearest hospital? I’d have to harvest myself a fresh, beating heart before tonight.”

Minseok rolls his eyes and steps in to interfere, clearly exasperated at his friend for not understanding the context of what Kyungsoo had said, because clearly, Chanyeol’s eyes are _too big_ to clearly see the big picture. “No Chanyeol. By heart, Kyungsoo meant the symbol for love. Not the live, beating body organ essential for living.” He doesn’t usually say anything, but Chanyeol’s his friend, so he doesn’t want to have to answer to anyone as to why said friend was scouring hospitals, looking for a freshly-harvested and still-beating heart.

Kyungsoo nods in agreement. “You know what hyung, sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with this guy.”

Luhan on the other hand, tries to explain the situation to Chanyeol in his own way. “I think you misunderstood everything, Yeol.” He twirls the fork around the spaghetti before eating it, pointing the end of the fork in Kyungsoo’s general direction after.“Kyungsoo is clearly not referring to the coldest part of his body. Well at least, that’s if he does have a heart.” Kyungsoo grunts, but doesn’t make any remark.“Anyway, point is, he’s referring to you giving Baekhyun something heart-shaped, like a necklace or cookies or throw pillows or something.”

“Oh… THAT heart.” Chanyeol nods, the realization slowly sinking into his brain.

***

“What the hell are those?” Junmyeon looks at the open box sitting on Baekhyun’s lap with complete revulsion. The bar’s closing up for the night (or day, rather, since it’s 3am already), and only the two of them (four, if you include the two security guards outside) are left.

“They’re cookies. Or at least, they were supposed to be. Chanyeol gave them to me,” Baekhyun gives a noncommittal shrug and takes one out, sinking his teeth into it to taste it.

“They look… weird.” Junmyeon picks up one for inspection and flips the cookie over, checking the green coating and the blue lines that were clearly made by unstable hands. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that he made these himself?”

Baekhyun nods. “Or so he says. They’re actually pretty good. Once you look past the weird designs and odd shape.”

Junmyeon bites off a small piece from the one he’s holding and chews on it well before deciding. “Not bad. It looks really weird though. I believe this was supposed to be a heart?” Baekhyun shrugs. “Well at least he didn’t make it look like a real heart, with all the four chambers and the aorta.” Baekhyun couldn’t agree more.

Junmyeon takes a few bites once more, quite enjoying the taste of the cookie. “And to think that he’s rich enough to buy an entire bakery. He must really like you.”

Baekhyun blushes. “N-No he doesn’t, he just likes bothering me.”

Junmyeon shrugs, but he doesn’t believe what Baekhyun said. “If you say so.” Junmyeon sighs in defeat, not even putting up a fight with Baekhyun’s insistence, almost making an ode to first loves and young adults with conflicted feelings.

***

“Oh. my. god. OH MY GOD! He loved it! The cookies were phenomenal! Thank you for existence, Do Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol greets his flat mate with a bone-crushing hug. “Lrrnfhhmrrhgrrh!” Kyungsoo’s shout is muffled by Chanyeol’s shirt, as his face was buried in Chanyeol’s chest for the duration of the hug.

“What?” Chanyeol loosens his grip a bit, and the elder finds room to breathe and the perfect opportunity to escape. So he kicks Chanyeol’s leg and promptly gets away with getting hit back, the tall guy jumping up and down on one leg while clutching the other with his hand, an offended look on his face. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am no friend of manhandling titans,” Kyungsoo raises his chin up, deftly sure of his statement. “Now what was it about the cookies?”

Kyungsoo has known Chanyeol for quite some time now to know that redirecting the conversation distracts him from doing harm (in this case, inflicting damage upon Kyungsoo as revenge for the kick), and his face immediately lights up upon the mention of the cookies. As expected. “Baekhyun told me earlier that they tasted good.” He is grinning from ear-to-ear now.

“That’s it? That’s all he said?”

“Yeah. But don’t worry, I can see from the look on his face that he actually loved them.” Kyungsoo was about to ask how sure Chanyeol was about that, but then Chanyeol giggled. _Fucking_ giggled like he was a high school boy who got a peck on the cheek from his long-time crush. Or a kouhai retelling the story of how his senpai finally noticed him.

“Did you just fucking giggle.” Kyungsoo asks in a tone devoid of all hope from the universe, and Chanyeol had the nerve to giggle again and answer, “I guess so.”

“I can’t believe you’re acting like a love struck country boy on me. After all the times I’ve helped you with Baekhyun, this is the repayment I’m getting?” Kyungsoo puts a hand on his chest, looking betrayed, and Chanyeol almost laughs out loud because he rarely sees his friend all riled up over some situation he doesn’t even usually give a fuck about.

“Well technically, you only helped me once. The other times, you were just telling me to either suck it up or cry like a baby.” Chanyeol shrugs, and the shorter of the two chucks a particularly thick book towards him, which the former had been reading before the interruption.He doesn’t need to check the cover to know that it’s a young adult novel, since his latest recollections of Kyungsoo reading were that of his nose buried deep between the pages of the white, hardbound book. He barely manages to dodge it, missing his face by a few inches.

“Fuck this, I’m going out,” Kyungsoo grabs his jacket from the coat rack and hurriedly puts it on. The last Chanyeol sees of him for that night is when he pulls out his phone from his pants pocket and dials a number, speaking particularly loud. “Listen. About that term paper you were working on. I’m willing to help you out. No questions. Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

***

“Now tell me, how do I ask him out for a date?” Chanyeol asks no one in particular when he invites Minseok and Luhan over his shared apartment with Kyungsoo one Saturday afternoon, excusing it as hanging out, and not one of those times he invites them to go someplace to ask for help in dating (or at least, trying to).

Finals just ended, and he wasn’t able to go much to the bar anymore as much as he liked to because he also needs to study for the sake of graduating on time, even though all he wants to do is listen to Baekhyun sing and play the older man’s melodic laugh in his ears on loop all day long. He’ll probably end up seeing Baekhyun and trying to strike up a conversation that wouldn’t end up in rolled eyes or retaliated outbursts in a few hours, anyway, so he patiently tries to wait it out, going over plans in his head.

He has no idea if it’s true, but he likes to think that Baekhyun misses him too.

“Him who? Date who?” Minseok asks, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as he struggles to maneuver his character in the video game out of harm’s way by spamming the arrow buttons. Beside him, Luhan laughs in manic glee at his boyfriend’s distress, and his character lunges forward to strike.

Chanyeol answers with patience. “Baekhyun. You know, the guy I’ve been eyeing from the bar.”

Kyungsoo watches the couple’s characters lash out at each other from the flat screen t.v. and vaguely wonders whether that’s what the scenario of the two fighting would be like. “Gosh Minseok-hyung, do you even know a thing?” he remarks, picking up another chip from the bag in his hand.

Minseok promptly ignores him, opting to respond to Chanyeol’s answer instead. “Baekhyun? You mean Byun Baekhyun? Ah, well he works in that grocery store near the café I work in on weekends. He doesn’t seem to have any days off, so it’d be quite difficult to ask him out, especially since he sings in that bar every night.”

Chanyeol almost drops his phone as he was about to have a go at hiring a private investigator to find out Baekhyun’s schedule. “Wait, what. WHAT. Are you sure? How did you know that?”

Minseok doesn’t even bat an eyelash, eyes trained on the game in front of him. “Of course I’m sure, I work with him back in the coffee shop during weekdays. Right before he goes to that bar owned by some Kim Junmyeon.”

Chanyeol, being the hyperactive person that he is, jumps out of his seat to clutch the older man by the shoulders and shake him. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew him?!? All this time, I was looking all over the world to find ways to make him like me!”

“Whoa, wait wait wait!” Minseok steers away from Chanyeol’s grip and manages to dodge a hit from Luhan’s character. “Probably because you didn’t even mention his name until just now?”

“Hey, stop manhandling my boyfriend or I will cut off your balls.” Luhan threatens, eyes dead with the firm expression of solemnity, still staring at the screen and focused in clicking the controller’s buttons as the heat of the battle rises. Chanyeol backs away immediately, because that look is never a bluff.

“Oh please you can’t even get past watching a horror movie without screaming.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at Luhan, the chips he’s been eating leaving crumbs on his spot on the floor.

The whole while, Luhan doesn’t remove his eyes from the screen. “Did I fucking stutter.” If Kyungsoo was a spawn of hell, Luhan has the potential to be a general. He’d have to give him credit for that.

***

“Of course, ma’am! These vegetables are probably the—hey, hey, hey, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!” Baekhyun drops one of the cabbages he was holding as someone drags him away from a customer. He is appalled to see himself being dumped into a shopping cart before being pushed out into the open, his last memory of the middle-aged woman asking him for advice on which one of the vegetables on display would be best to include in the meal she’s going to cook for her children clouded with a look of mixed worry and disappointment.

“What the fucking hell—Park Chanyeol!” Baekhyun screams as his captor barely pushes past the doors of the store, yelling apologies here and there at the throng of customers and workers he almost collides with. He doesn’t need to look up at the guy to check if it was really him, for the deep voice and polite apologies despite wheeling away one of the place’s employees was a dead giveaway. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Stop this atrocity this instant!”

“Can’t—must…Later.” Chanyeol pants, and Baekhyun gives up on the option of asking nicely because that wouldn’t do because that’s just how Park Chanyeol is.

They stop by in front of a convenience store, and Baekhyun heaves himself up, swatting away Chanyeol’s hand when the other tried to help him up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I was in the middle of a job, can’t you see?”

Chanyeol looks down at his shoes, a frown disappointed frown on his lips. “But I thought… They said it was okay…”

“Who? Who the fuck said it was okay? I swear I’m gonna kill that bastard—“

“Uh… your boss?”

“What.”

Chanyeol clears his throat and looks up from staring intently at the most interesting specks of dirt on the tips of his shoes. “I asked your boss for permission. And I didn’t bribe him, I swear. I just asked.” He holds up both hands in surrender at Baekhyun’s accusatory glare.

The shorter male sighs. “Then why’d you do it?”

“Why’d I what?”

“Why’d you ask permission? Why’d you take me here, duh?” he rolls his eyes and folds his arms across his chest, determined to look angrier than he’s supposed to be.

“Because I’d… thought I’d take you out on a surprise date? Minseok-hyung told me you always had to work, so I figured I’d take you on a day off.” Chanyeol confesses, blushing a few shades darker than red at the mention of a date.

“Wait, Minseok? As in Kim Minseok? The—“

“Barista, yes,” Chanyeol finishes for him. “He’s my friend. And neighbor.” Baekhyun intends on taking the plan for Minseok’s death from a grand scale of torture methods for giving out his schedule to Chanyeol.

But for the meantime, why not enjoy the date, when the opportunity’s already knocking on the door? He swears it doesn’t mean anything and is as platonic as Minseok’s relationship with Luhan can get—oh wait wrong reference. But anyhow, it wouldn’t mean a thing. It could just be a friendly date anyway, right?

So he drags Chanyeol into the convenience store despite the other’s protests of “Hey, I was the one who asked you out, so I should be the one doing that!”, to which he lovingly replies with “You didn’t ask properly anyway.”

***

Somehow, in the middle of reaching for another potato chip and a conversation to get to know each other better, they extended their hands at the same time and their hands brush by one another, sending jolts of electricity through both of their nerves. Chanyeol stops talking, eyes wide and expressive of shock.  
_  
This means nothing,_ Baekhyun chants as he playfully nudges Chanyeol’s hand away and grabs a piece even though his toes are tingling and his skin is on fire. _This is definitely nothing,_ he insists, even as he covers up the awkward situation with a laugh and eats the whole chip in one bite.

“Look Baekhyun, I… Really like you,” Chanyeol finally grows the balls to say, and he puts his hand over Baekhyun’s, engulfing the smaller male’s hand with his own large, yaoi-manufactured ones. His hands are sticky from the droplets of the drink that had spilled on his hand earlier, but Baekhyun doesn’t push him away, letting the warmth of his palm seep through his skin. “I know you’re thinking that this is all a prank and I’m shitting you, but please, listen. I’m serious with this, and I know you know it too.”

Of course Baekhyun knows, and he’s already known for a long time, but he ignores it because he doesn’t want to hear the sincerity in Chanyeol’s voice, the emotion showing clearly on his face, spreading like wildfire and consuming Baekhyun. He wonders briefly when _but I hate you_ has turned into _I hate you, but_ before looking at Chanyeol straight in the eyes. “Do you like me too?”

He doesn’t directly answer with a yes or a no, but with a “For someone who’s rich, you’re pretty dumb, aren’t you?” He didn’t mean to make it sound malicious, but it has been done, and he could only hope that Chanyeol wouldn’t take it too bad.

Chanyeol shrugs. “I know I may not be the brightest of our bunch, but hey, if being dumb means that I get to see you smile every day then I’d rather be an imbecile for the rest of my life.”

Baekhyun feels the wildfire from his hand spreading across his cheeks, too.

***

 _I definitely do not like him,_ Baekhyun thinks as he scoops up a spoonful of ice cream from the bowl they’re sharing on their third date. _This is just, like, a friendly date, you know. Nothing romantic to see here, move along, people!_ He convinces that he’s just agrees to go for the food, but the loud beating in his chest whenever Chanyeol comes by to pick him up on the rare occasions that he has a day off says otherwise.

The couple ice cream Chanyeol ordered sitting on top of shaved ice and an assortment of fruits says something else, too. He frowns at the raspberry-flavored ice cream at the edge of the spoon before shoving it in his mouth.

“So are we officially a couple now?” Chanyeol pokes his cheek, and he almost spits out the dessert he so much loves. “Geez Chanyeol, don’t say things like that when I’m eating, I almost had a seizure because of you.”

Chanyeol stops poking his cheek and takes back his hand, pursing his lips and looking crestfallen. “So we aren’t?”

Again, Baekhyun doesn’t know when _I hate him_ turned into _I must convince myself that I hate him_. But he doesn’t say anything near a yes or anything far from being a no, either. “You know, for a rich kid who could have pretty much everything in the world, you are dumb. Like, really dumb.” He tries again, hoping to be able to say what he really means this time.

“I don’t—“ Chanyeol starts, but Baekhyun cuts him off before he could even begin his argument. “Because you chose me. Because out of all the people you can have, you chose me. Because even if I always push you away, you always find your way back.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth to say something but closes it, deciding it best that he doesn’t have anything to say that doesn’t sound like a fish gurgling. “That’s because I’m a homing pigeon.” His voice cracks even when he says it, and it’s too late to take it back when he thinks back to it and realizes that what he said came out wrong.

“Uhm excuse me, what. I don’t see any wings or beaks” _and you’re well over six feet, how could you be a pigeon. If you were a bird, you’d definitely be an ostrich. A big, awkward ostrich._

He slaps his palm against his forehead, cheeks coloring with a deep hue of embarrassment. “No, not literally. I mean, like a homing pigeon.” When Baekhyun doesn’t react, he pulls out the line that he’s been preparing for in a very long time to use but haven’t got the chance to try out. “That time you told me that you didn’t like to sing for me because of something about me being rich… Well I’d have to say that even though I may have a big house, it feels empty without you in it. I might be able to acquire all the houses I want on a whim, but it’s nothing to me because you are my home.”

“You sound like you’re proposing, it’s only our third date.” Baekhyun laughs nervously, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, because it’s the first time someone has ever said something as sweet as that to him. Even in the few relationships he’s been, he’s rarely even heard of something other than the generic _I like you_ , or the other praises that he’s already heard a hundred of times from other people. He feels uneasy with the change, but he doesn’t have the heart to oppose it, either.

“No, I’m serious about this. Can you please just let me be serious this one time?” he sounds frustrated, and the knots of tension in Baekhyun’s chest loosens up. He finds himself laughing, not because of the look on Chanyeol’s expression, but for the situation in particular.

Baekhyun’s not dumb, but he likes the words for himself. “And what does that have to do with you being a homing pigeon?”

“Because like I said, you are my home. And I will always find my way back to you.” And when Baekhyun smiles in response, Chanyeol is reminded that he is like a firework in daytime, a sudden outburst of blissful energy. And he was thankful that he had looked up and noticed before he was too late, because then he wouldn’t have known what he was missing out on.

He knows that seeing him was purely coincidental, but then isn’t that how great love stories start out with? The fates wouldn’t have had it any other way, anyway.

***

Chanyeol still waits for the time when Baekhyun would sing for him, but he doesn’t push for it anymore. Probably because he knows that someday, Baekhyun would voluntarily do that even without asking.

But that someday turns out to be tonight, as Baekhyun points him out of the crowd and tells him that tonight’s song is for him. It wasn’t the song he heard Baekhyun sing the first time they met, but instead a soulful ballad of love and loss; of finding a way back to each other’s arms despite everything. He could only stare in awe and clap after the performance, because even if nobody says it out loud, he knows that that simple gesture is already a big deal for Baekhyun.

“But still, why me?” Baekhyun asks right after his performance, sitting cross-legged on the stool beside Chanyeol’s. “You could have anyone you wanted, but you still chose me.”

Chanyeol turns his attention away from his drink to find Baekhyun staring down at his own hands, fiddling with his fingers in discomfort. “Because it’s you. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He still hasn’t gotten a sudden confession of love or anything remote to seeing Baekhyun profess his feelings, but he knows from the smile Baekhyun gives him, he doesn’t need to hear it out loud. Because he himself feels it, in the shared looks, shy gestures and touches that linger a little bit longer than they’re supposed to be.

***

“Hyung, can you please stop with all the acts of lasciviousness. We can see you from right here, you know.” Chanyeol prods Luhan in the back with his toe (he doesn’t have to reach out that much because scientifically speaking, 70% of his body is made up of his legs) and Luhan groans in response.

“Why do have to be such killjoys. Just go watch the movie or something.” Minseok just watches them bicker through half-closed eyelids, torn between wanting to snuggle closer to Luhan and running away because the younger might turn him into a human burrito. He chooses none of the two, returning to sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back straight.

“Actually hyung, that’s kind of the problem. We’re watching a movie here and you’re practically mauling your boyfriend in front of the screen.” Baekhyun backs Chanyeol up, legs dangling over the plush red velvet couch.

Luhan squints his eyes at the younger pair, looking betrayed. “Traitors. I should never have let you two get together.” Kyungsoo just rolls his eyes at the scene the three are causing and cuddles closer to Jongin for warmth (and also so he could shield his eyes from the atrocity of the older pairs who are supposed to be the mature ones in the vicinity), burying his head on Jongin’s collarbone. He could hear Jongin’s breath hitch, practically feel his heartbeat beating particularly faster against his ribs and sending tremors through the material of his shirt, but he doesn’t move. Jongin adjusts to the situation a few heartbeats later, calming down and spine relaxing from its stiff position.

Minseok observes the two from his peripheral vision and wishes that the four of them could just settle down for something as simple and cute as the two. With Luhan, he thinks it’s impossible, but when Luhan stops threatening the two love birds sitting on the couch while they’re left to sit on the floor and wraps an arm around his waist, leaning against his shoulder, Minseok thinks that maybe he’s wrong; maybe it is possible.

“Love is such a weird, thing, don’t you think?” Baekhyun asks Chanyeol, smile as bright as the sun. And if it weren’t for the flopping of his heart and the sudden feeling of butterflies in his stomach, he would’ve said no.


End file.
